


In her own way

by crushinator



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushinator/pseuds/crushinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade has an argument, takes care of business, takes a nap, has a dream, and writes a letter to her friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In her own way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tortoisegirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tortoisegirl/gifts).



Every morning Jade would check the light through her bedroom window. She never was able to sleep eight hours in one go, ever since she could remember. She’d fall asleep when she felt like it and wake up when she felt like it. Her grandpa always said other people slept through the night instead of in patches like her but she never saw the point of it. By her reckoning she was awake more hours and needed less sleep than people who had to sleep eight or nine hours at a time. It gave her more time to take care of things. And there were always things to take care of. 

This morning it looked like pre-dawn. The sky was seashell gray and all the stars were gone except her favorite one, which was a planet, really, but it shone like a star so she didn’t think it minded being called one. 

”Good morning!” she said. “You’re really pretty!”

Venus twinkled back.

Her robot wasn’t around, but that wasn’t strange. She dreamed she’d been trying to wake John up again but of course he wasn’t budging. There were more bad drawings on the wall in his tower room up on Prospit. Way more than last time. She got out of bed and pulled a reminder from her desk drawer and tied it around her ring finger. This one would be blue for John, and blue for water, so she’d remember to wash some of that stuff away for him before he woke up. A half-finished letter about her home lay on the desk. She’d have to finish it later. Another reminder went on her finger for that.

Since it was pre-dawn, that meant today was a hunting day. Routine was important. If she skipped hunting when she got up that early she might not have enough meat to keep herself good and healthy. If grandpa taught her anything he taught her that protein was important for brain power. He also taught her the importance of rifle maintenance and that anything could be deadly no matter how small and pretty it was, but she had trouble with that last one sometimes. Butterflies didn’t seem like _that_ much of a threat, no matter how many times he’d taken one out with his blunderbuss.

She could just hear him gearing up for another lecture. Well, she wasn’t going to take it today!

”Oh my god, grandpa, butterflies aren’t dangerous,” she said, rolling her eyes as she hefted her rifle.”I am NOT going to shoot one. They are perfectly safe! And I’m NOT getting a bigger gun! This one is just as deadly as yours!”

She checked the chamber for bullets; it was empty, which was good. Leaving a loaded gun lying around was just silly. She grabbed a box of shells from her Squiddles lunchbox and rattled it. Sounded like at least five shells. Good! She’d probably only need one but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. She grabbed her hunting jacket from the wardrobifier and put the extra bullets in her pocket. There was still some jerky in her other one and her flask was almost full. That meant she wouldn’t have to stop by the kitchen! Score!

”I’m going out!” she called. “I’ll be fine! Don’t be ridiculous! If anything attacks me I’ll shoot it! Goodbye!!! I love you!!!

Ugh. He could be so impossible sometimes. She’d have to tell Rose about it later.

*************

Morning on the island was probably her favorite time. It never really got _too_ hot on her island thanks to the cold currents but the early mornings were the only time she could feel something like cold. Rose told her last winter that it snowed so much at her house that it was as high as her bedroom window in some places. She showed her a bunch of pictures and Jade looked at them for hours. She wondered if she’d ever see snow in real life.

The volcano smoked gently into the pearlescent sky as she tromped her way to her favorite hunting spot. She didn’t need to be quiet; the birds were making enough racket that she’d have to be playing the tuba to make herself obvious. Besides, the prey she was after really wasn’t all that bright.

Years ago, way before she was born or even her grandpa was born, a bunch of people from who knew where decided to try to colonize the island. You could still find some ruins of old houses if you looked hard enough. They gave up pretty quick after their first and only attempt, but they didn’t get all their things and leave like real civilized people should. Any livestock they took with them stayed behind. And since there weren’t any big predators aside from birds, the livestock thrived.

The island, therefore, was downright _infested_ with sheep and chickens. It was her duty to thin out the herds.

She slowed down as she approached the clearing where the biggest flock liked to graze. The birds were quieter as the trees started to thin. Cautiously, she pushed a few vines out of the way so she could get a clear line of sight. A knot of about eight sheep were grazing just within rifle range. She peered through her scope to get a closer look.

One of them, a big ram from the looks of it, was up on a rock, keeping an eye on the terrain while the other sheep ate. He looked a lot older than the others; his wool was missing in places and he was a bit grizzled around the snout. He’d probably make good jerky one day, but he wouldn’t be good fresh. She scanned the flock for a few minutes until she picked out a plump young one. No lamb to take care of and not old enough to be tough. Perfect.

She breathed slowly, imagining that she was the sea lapping at the beach. Everything became sharper, louder, as she settled her sight on the sheep’s head, waiting for it to turn and face her so she could take it out with one shot. Her grandpa always told her how important it was to kill with one shot. A spooked, wounded animal running around wasn’t good for anyone.

 _Draw a line from tearduct to tearduct_ , she thought. _And aim for the center. Aim for the center. Aim for the-_

The sheep turned. Her finger twitched. There was a crack like lightning, and flapping wings, and twenty-eight hooves stampeding at once. And then silence.

She emptied the shell from her rifle and leaned back on her heels. One shot. Good. Good. She’d have to tell Grandpa later. There was no way his blunderbuss would’ve hit that true.

She brushed off her skirt and shouldered her gun before making her way to her kill. Only halfway there, she started to feel very tired.

 _Oh no, not now,_ She thought.

”Bec!” She shouted, and then keeled over in a dead sleep.

*************

She was in the clouds. The clouds were beautiful, so pretty and bright and full of color. She giggled. Looking at the clouds was so fun! Rose was in one. She was doing something with shiny plastic letters on the fridge. It looked like one of her games with her Mom. Dave was in another. He was wearing a weird red suit and carrying a flashing suitcase full of fake-looking money. What a weird thing to do! She loved her friends.

The biggest cloud in the sky, the one right over her head, held a picture of the old temple ruins in the bay in front of her house. She flew closer. Bec never let her near that place. She wondered if she could find out more about it here, without him to drag her back home like usual. That place was a mystery to her, and she hated mysteries. Speculation was one of the worst things in the world. Much better to know things for sure than to spend all your time wondering what _could_ be happening.

She floated up, up, till the cloud was vast as the volcano in front of her, till she could see every detail of the crumbled stonework of the temple. There was something sharp in the tower. Sharp and jagged as a pile of woodsaws. Even as she drifted closer to see a rope on her heart pulled and tightened.

She was a child again, her Grandpa facedown on the table, a faded blue woman smiling at him while his blood drip drip dripped to the grass. Bec wasn’t there. No one was there. No one would ever be there again. 

The tower yawned like Bec in front of her. It was so, so hot.

*************

She opened her eyes. Fuck. It was past noon by the look of the sun. The hottest part of the day hadn’t started yet but it would soon. The air was thick and salty already and the cool breeze that had kept her buoyed through the morning was as dead as the sheep she shot. 

She touched her face to see if she’d been sunburned. Her skin was its normal temperature. Her lips were dry but she was otherwise in good shape. It could have been worse. One time she was investigating the volcano and almost fell into an active lava flow. She’d have been burnt to a crisp if it weren’t for Bec. As it was she had to spend weeks after that rubbing aloe into her skin to help the blisters heal. At least it wasn’t as bad as all that. She rolled to her feet and grabbed her gun. Time to collect her kill.

It was still in the same spot next to the rock, slightly shaded and stone still. Or it should have been. As she got closer, she saw that its surface was rippling and blue. She readied her gun but as she got closer still she held it back, uncertain that she was seeing what she saw.

The sheep was covered in butterflies. Blue butterflies with black wingtips, opening and closing their wings in the dappled shade as they congregated on wool and meat. Their proboscises were unfurled as if they were drinking nectar. But they weren’t. They weren’t drinking nectar at all.

”Shoo!” she yelled, waving her hands and running towards them. “Shoo! Get out of here! That’s mine!”

They fluttered away. She tried to calm her breathing as she took out her captchalogue with shaky hands and stored the sheep to butcher later. They were just butterflies.

A bird screamed overhead as it flew past and she nearly jumped and dropped her gun. She stood up and stomped.

“Screw this!” she shouted. “I’m going to the beach!!!”

*************

There was one spot on the island that she’d found in all her years of exploring that was safe and sandy and extremely full of delicious shellfish. A small cove sheltered by trees and practically hidden from aerial view lay on the North side of the island. It was one of her favorite places to go when she was sad or lonely or just wanted to go have some fun for a while. The sand was white and the water was blue and cold and clear and she could swim deep enough that she could grab conches from the bottom and and haul them up to eat later. She was a good swimmer, and a good eater. She didn’t know which she was more proud of.

Today the water was warmer than usual, probably thanks to the shallowness of the water and the heat of the sun. Lots of sparkly little fish swam by her as she dove. They moved as a single unit with only a few stragglers messing up the formation. She wished she could understand what fish were thinking the way she could understand Bec. What kind of fishy thoughts did they have? Did they think in unison with each other? Is that how they managed to move like that?

Something colorful winked at her from a little clutch of coral. She kicked her way to it. A jellyfish drifted by and she carefully wound her way around it. She absolutely didn’t want to get stung! Last time she did it she found out the hard way that peeing on a sting didn’t help with the pain.

She reached through the coral, careful not to touch it, and picked up the shiny thing. Then she launched herself from a rock, burst from the surface of the water like a dolphin, and held it up to the light.

It was pink and cloudy-translucent and worn slightly smooth by the action of the waves. Rose quartz! She grinned. She’d have to save this one and send it to Rose. She’d say she hated it but she’d secretly love it like she loved all the things Jade sent her. She paddled to the beach and walked onto the sand, already dripping dry in the hot sun. She dropped the stone into her jacket pocket and began to dry off with her extra large limited-edition Skipper Plumbthroat towel when there was a sharp “POP!” and the smell of ozone behind her. She grinned again.

“Bec!” she squealed. “There you are!” 

She dropped her towel and tackled him. He squirmed with delight, his tail wagging so hard his entire body shook. He licked the saltwater off her face. She laughed. His tongue was green and his face was hard to make out sometimes and he probably wouldn’t ever let her in the temple but he was he was a good dog and she loved him. 

“Wanna play fetch?” she asked.

Bec barked and teleported about twenty feet away. She loaded her rifle and shot. For thirty minutes, thirty dumb, loud minutes, she forgot that she had things she needed to do. She forgot that her Grandpa was dead and stuffed and that her friends were all thousands of miles away and that she still had a sheep to butcher before she could settle in at home and finish the letter she was writing. She forgot the sudden sleep spells, the butterflies, and the awful dream she had and shot her rifle again and again and laughed while Bec caught her bullets and brought them back to her and barked like a puppy, wild and happy and free.

*************

Her plants were watered and fertilized. Her food was butchered and stored. She was showered and clean and refreshed from a nap on the beach and full of good food and Grandpa didn’t argue with her even once when she got back home. It was a good day! She looked at her fingers. The pink reminder was still there. Right! Her letter! She’d have to write that in her letter. 

She sat, read over the first few lines, and began to write.

_Dear Rose and John and Dave,_

_Hi!!! You’re all getting copies of the same letter except you’re all getting different presents. I got Dave a pressed butterfly. Dead things are so cool!!! Put this one in amber like you did the frog. I bet it’ll be really pretty! I got Rose a rose quartz I found on the beach. Like her name! Ha ha ha. I didn’t get John anything._

_Just kidding!!! :)_

_I got John some pumpkin seeds. For some reason I can’t ever grow pumpkins here but you might be able to! I bet they’ll be awesome when they’re big and maybe you could even make a pie out of them! I’ve never had pumpkin pie. I bet it’s good!_

_You wanted to know about where I live. Well, it’s a big island with a volcano and an old ruined temple and a bunch of neat animals and plants and things. It gets really hot sometimes but mostly it’s all breezy and cool. I basically live in… tropical paradise! Maybe you can come visit me one day and I’ll show you all the awesome stuff around here, like the wild sheep or my favorite beach or my garden. I have a really cool garden!!!_

_There’s a lot to do around here so I never get bored. Grandpa taught me how to survive pretty well (though he STILL thinks I should carry a bigger gun. Come on, Grandpa! I'm pretty strong but I can't carry something that big! It's just cumbersome!). I had a pretty good day today taking care of business as usual. I guess you could say I’m living the good life! Pew pew!_

_I hope everyone’s safe and happy and warm. I can’t wait till we get to meet each other. In the meantime, I hope you like the stuff I got you!!! It’s from the heart!!!_

_Lots of love,_

_Jade!!! :D_

She put her pen down. Looking good! She’d copy the letter later and make sure it was ready for the mail plane when it made its monthly run from Baker Island. She took off her pink reminder and tied a gray one on it instead, for the color of the plane and for the time of day she had to be ready.

She yawned. Maybe it was time for a nap.

A blue butterfly fluttered onto her windowsill. She shooed it away. It was a nice enough night; she was sure it could find somewhere else to sit if it wanted to. To be perfectly honest she didn’t like butterflies all that much. Not that she’d ever shoot one. _Grandpa._.

”Goodnight!” she shouted at the sky. “You’re still really pretty! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She was sure the stars answered in their own way. Just like Grandpa and Bec. As long as she knew that, she was never alone. Not really.


End file.
